Candor and Deception
by HaeraDimnne
Summary: "I hold the key to your freedom." The man had said. "Whether to remain locked here forever in this cage or give in and be unbounded by any restraints will vary in the choices that you'll make." He smiled, a predatory look glinted in his face. "Now, which path would you take?" I hesitated before answering – "Neither."
Ever since that day, I was never the same.

The moment my anger had unsheathed into something impossibly inhuman, I knew my peaceful days were done. Just where did it rooted from, I don't remember. All that I can recall is the aftermath of such outburst and the deadpanned look of my brother. It was years ago, but those instances became the onset of my disastrous life.

It was when I first discovered my strength.

And it ended up with me being in a hospital bed.

Such visits became frequent when almost everyday my bones would break due to lifting up heavy objects and then throwing them at anyone who pisses me offhand. I couldn't control myself. I was just... angry.

Eventually I grew accustomed to it, knowing my temper had a short fuse and that I can never contain it inside no matter hard I try. Why bother trying anyways? It wouldn't make a difference.

So I stopped holding back, even though I also knew its consequences.

Still I wished to have a peaceful life, staying away from fights the best I could. There was no problem with my family. I lived in a perfectly normal neighborhood. It's just that every time I snap, everything around me would be in instant destruction.

It's not like I wanted havoc, it's just that I couldn't help my eyes from seeing red in the shortest amount of time.

Once I asked myself, why?

 _Why–_

But then I stopped asking that question.

I stopped asking, because there was no use. It wouldn't change anything.

Because of that, I built a wall between me and other people, regardless on how much I value them.

Because if they got too close, I'd end up hurting them in the long run.

Because I know, that I can never control my anger, nor my strength.

It has always been this way.

Until it was wordlessly ruined by a man named Orihara Izaya.

A horribly infuriating memory I couldn't erase.

I disliked him the very moment we met. There had been no actual reason, I just knew he was bad news. And my hunch proved to be true when he incessantly disrupted my longed for peaceful life by making it a living hell.

I hated him, from the very fiber of my existence.

Hated him to the point where I desired his death more than anything else.

I'm sure he feels exactly the same, considering he slashed my chest when I first attempted to punch him. Whether it was out of self-defense, I really don't give a damn. I couldn't care less of what he'd think. He saw me wrecking the field like nothing.

He saw it coming.

Yet, again and again, he preferred to aggravate me further, smirking as if I was a new toy currently in his possession. As if I were his plaything.

I refused to be a part of his schemes. I've used this power I hated so much to get rid of him, chased him day and night, just to let him taste his own medicine.

Years went on, I still haven't killed him. Various excuse would materialize immediately. I knew where he lived. Hell, I knew who his sisters were. I don't even understand myself _why_ I hated him. I just do. The mere mention of his name sends me on a rampage.

He taunts me for the sole purpose of entertainment, approaches me just for the fun of it.

He's seen the worst and still a smile would remain stretched over his face.

He's the only one who ever came close without entirely being afraid.

I hate him, just as he hates me.

There is no in-between. And it'll never end, till one of us gives in.

Which will never happen.

Nevertheless, things tend to change for the better.

Disaster after disaster, I've grown to accept myself. To use my power to protect those I treasure. To finally restrain my temper and set a good example to others.

To gain the peace I've craved all my life. But that _fleabag_ continued to be a thorn, not only to my side, also to almost everyone I know of.

Soon I realized, there's always been one way to stop him from messing with our lives. One way I've always strived for all this time.

He has to die.

Even if I become a monster in everyone's eyes, just like he wanted. I won't cease until he is fallen, until his blood is spilled on my hands.

Till his existence is wiped out without a single trace in this wasteland. But it's unlikely.

Because even if I do manage to kill him, would I be at peace? Would the traces of his deeds vanish?

Would my mind set free the long-term animosity? Then I'd revert back to what I was before I met him.

I'd be alone.

I failed miserably. However, I noticed, that in the midst of the chaos and interconnecting mishap, a message is clearly shown. There are people who care despite my never-ending flaws. That there are people who are willing to face their past and amend in the nearer future. That there is something brighter beyond the dimming horizon.

That nothing lasts forever.

As another year begun, each of us had gone to our designated track, moved on and relaxed. The streets were seemingly silent and intact, still bustling with its new and old inhabitants. After what was said and done, it's like nothing's changed but...

I ask myself another question.

 _Why do I feel so empty?_


End file.
